Drawn To Him
by WeLoveNeville
Summary: Sherlock Holmes has many irritating traits that we all too well know about. Why then are people drawn to him?
1. The Pathologist

_**Author's Note (my sincere apologies, it's quite long):**_

_WARNING: in my Author's Note, I've one swear word. Well, it sorta is a swear word. Oh, and I've got another warning and a PS at the end of this ridiculous author's note._

_I am back, sort of. I'm putting my crossover into hiatus, it seems. Right now I am struggling with it and I can't think straight. (School, life in general; I pity my friends.) So, sorry. But if you like Castle/NCIS, please go read it: "The Capital and The City That Never Sleeps." I'd appreciate any help. Seriously, any._

_So, yes, background to this. I always liked Sherlock, courtesy of my Tumblr dashboard, but I only really got into it around my birthday last October. It's safe to say that I ship Mystrade more than Johnlock, but Sherlolly more than Mystrade. (This has no mention of Mystrade or Johnlock, by the way, sorry to you all.)_

_I also apologise; this came to me quite suddenly and randomly at 1am (Irish time) in the morning, and I had type it up immediately on Fawkes (my Kindle Fire). If there is mistakes or whatnot, PM and I'll sort it. (Though I really hope not, I'm an A Level English Literature student; yes, I know later on I start a sentence with "because" and you're not supposed to, but I had to.) So, if the spacing is a tad bit odd, it's because of the app I use to type on Fawkes. Sorry. My internet has been really shitty recently, which is why it's only being uploaded now._

_I've been thinking I may do 'drabbles' of prompts that people can PM me, from these fandoms:_

_-Sherlock_

_-Castle_

_-NCIS_

_-Harry Potter_

_-Maybe Game of Thrones (I worship it, but wow, it's hard to write ff for it, I think.)_

_If I do, I'll PM you back and tell you. But don't expect me to get it written and out there super fast. I'm doing 4 A Levels and I'm a Senior Prefect, also preparing for Grade 6 on my horn. I'll try though._

_Ok, longest Author's Note ever is now done. You can now read my drabble._

_Slán!_

_Cesca._

_PS: there's no swearing in my writing for once! Wow! I usually drop a shit or a fuck or a bastard in there...Oh...Sorry...that's why the rating is what it is. Sorry._

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**WARNING:** mention of the suicide that Sherlock faked. It is quite obvious I do not own Sherlock because if I did, Sherlolly and Mystrade would exist. I'm just conveying that to you.

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**1\. The Pathologist**

It wasn't the devilish, handsome looks of William Sherlock Scott Holmes that drew Molly Hooper to him. Like those perfectly shaped cheekbones of his. Or the haphazardly messy curls that adorned his head. Nor the delicious purple shirt he would occasionally wear when he swept into her morgue (yes, her morgue, no one else's) and that would be revealed when he removed his Belstaff and scarf.

No, what drew Dr. Molly Hooper, pathologist, to William Sherlock Scott Holmes, the world's only consulting detective, before "The Fall", was the extraordinary air that...hugged him, she was sure of it. Not surrounded him. Hugged him.

How he would speak what was on his mind, even spit it out in a hiss in his deep baritone, even if the words were harsh, directed at her, and cut her a million times metaphorically.

How amazingly intelligent he was; especially with those near-perfect deductions he conjured out of thin air.

How he'd enter he morgue in a demanding manner, expecting body parts to just be rolled out for him. Every day Molly promised herself that she would stand her ground with Sherlock and not give in. However...promises were made to be broken.

The brilliant friendship that Sherlock had formed with Captain John Watson had given her hope. The two men had saved each other. It had given her the hope to believe, at the time, that one day Sherlock would come to respect her, need her, just like how he needed John. Allow her to save him too.

Then...he did.

William Sherlock Scott Holmes needed his pathologist; because she mattered the most.

She played a painstakingly vital role in the "suicide" of the great Sherlock Holmes, and for two years she carried around the deep, heavy burden of a secret that he was alive, shielding the truth from the highly functioning sociopath's best friend.

During those two years, she ignored the advice of the man she was drawn to and she dated. She found Tom. Actually liked Tom. Obviously not because the way he dressed or the way he imitated - no- tried to talk. He was sweet, caring, kind, romantic Tom, who gave her a normal (yet boring) life.

Then he returned, and she found herself being dragged - willingly, she had to admit -and drawn back to him. Molly thought that she was over her childish, stupid crush - Tom! TOM! Was that not proof enough?! - but her heart had other ideas.

It wasn't the insanely quick thinking deductions, or the questionable experiments, or the flawless musical skills of a violin that Sherlock possesses that drew Molly Hooper to him, however, as she discovered after Sherlock's four minute exile from Britain.

There was only one thing that drew Molly Hooper to Sherlock Holmes.

It was quite simple, actually.

Because, truthfully, she was the only person (apart from John) who knew that, under his complex layers, he cared. That the chemist-graduate, younger Holmes cared, and disregarded the older Holmes' words of: "Caring is not an advantage."

Molly knew the truth about Sherlock Holmes.

For that, she adored him.

She was drawn to him.

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_**Hello, Author's Note 2 (sorry, I'm ridiculous, I know):**_

_If you like this, please tell me in a review. I would seriously consider drawing this out into a number of one shots of why people are drawn to or stick with our favourite sociopath. Like why Lestrade puts up with Sherlock, or why Mycroft secretly holds a soft spot for his baby brother. Leave me suggests in the reviews, if you think I should. If not...Oh well, thanks for reading!_

_Cesca_


	2. The British Government

_**Author's Note:**_

_I have reviewed Molly's POV; it's not much right now, but I'll revisit it._

_Mycroft's POV is different, and I have tried to keep it to what I believe he would logically think. After all he is a Holmes with only a tad bit more emotion that his kid brother. This is why this chapter could be considered to be...weird. Anyway, please read and review; constructive criticism is much appreciated!_

_Also, if you like this, please indicate in the reviews which character you'd like me to do next. I will take prompts, suggestions, and ideas – if you have one, tell me!_

_Thanks to the guest "aintevenbovvered", "IslandGem" and "ashley. " for your reviews (and suggestions)._

_Cesca_

_(P.S: Favourites and Follows are also appreciated. I guess that is obvious.)_

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**WARNING:** Mention of Sherlock's apparent suicide and our favourite consulting detective's bad days of drug abuse. As always, I do not own Sherlock, BBC version or original, I'm just torturing the characters, because why not?

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2\. The British Government

"_Your loss would break my heart."_

Mycroft Holmes was not one known for sentimentality. So, why exactly did he say that to his little brother at Christmas and actually _mean_ it?

Wait – did he mean it? After all, he _was_ Mycroft Holmes, the elder Holmes brother; who only truly had a soft spot in his heart for Mummy and Father Holmes. Certainly not for childish, immature little brothers.

Mycroft had never taken to the idea of becoming a big brother when he deduced, at the age of seven, that his genius mathematician mother was pregnant. (It was obvious, unbelievably easy; child's play) and rightly so. Sherlock had turned out to be an utter chaos in the then-perfect, orderly world of Mycroft. Were babies always that _loud? Or noisy?_

Mycroft tolerated Sherlock in the method of educating the kid all he knew; this was where Sherlock had discovered his art for deductions. Finally, Mycroft was able to escape to Cambridge University and that he did, not even considering looking back at who he had abandoned.

Twenty or so years later, Mycroft oft wished he did. By not looking back, by abandoning his enigma of a brother, he played a helping hand in forcing Sherlock to dabble in the dizzying highs of cocaine in order to achieve a fix. This "abandonment" drove a rift so deep between the brothers that it made Sherlock come to the conclusion that his brother had never given a damn about him.

That wasn't true in Mycroft's mind, however.

Yes, as Sherlock's older brother, he was obliged to watch out for him (hence the moving CCTV cameras, directed right at the windows of 221B Baker Street). Yes, Sherlock was a nuisance. Yes, he had no respect for anyone else's property (ah, Mrs Hudson and her poor walls). Yes, the only way to make the idiot listen and heed to Mycroft's well-intentioned advice was a threat of Mummy interfering. Yes, Mycroft nearly always had to fish Sherlock out of other people's business (read as trouble, i.e. Jim Moriarty; Irene Alder; Sebastian Moran, and; Charles Augustus Magnussen). But did he do all that because of obligations or was it something deeper that compelled the "Iceman" to do so?

Exiling the brother who had the mind of a brilliant chemist but was more than happy to race around London enthusiastically, completing New Scotland Yard's work for them, had pained Mycroft, but in had been the most sensible thing to do. Sherlock truly was the stupid one, and Mycroft definitely the smart one. However, when that..._Moriarty's_ face had popped up all screens around England, Mycroft had made the correct call in abandoning his brother's exile and pulling him back –_four minutes, FOUR! Sherlock had talent!_

It was bring his brother back to save England once more that made Mycroft realise exactly why he had said "Your loss would break my heart" to Sherlock that Christmas. It was simple.

They were family. Sherlock was the only one who understood him, and he Sherlock (in Mycroft's mind, though the British Government was certain that a certain Dr. John Watson and Dr. Molly Hooper were close to 80% understanding Sherlock). Blood was thicker than water, after all.

"_True, but blood can be wiped away just as easily, can't it be?"_

It did not matter. William Sherlock Scott, for all his annoying traits and habits- that irritating whiny child's baritone voice he possessed when he complained; his incessant violin playing, a tactic cleverly used to drive Mycroft out of 221B Baker Street; his general _moodiness; _Sherlock's constant, biting remarks about Mycroft's weight (the dieting was necessary, alright, do _not _question it) - was still a Holmes at the end of the day, and the Holmes family stuck together through thick and thin (read as: stuck together when the youngest decides to fake a suicide; just another day at the office).

All of that, the brilliance and the stupidity of Sherlock, drew Mycroft towards his brother. It would not make sense to the goldfish of the world, but it made sense to the British Government and that was all that was needed.


	3. New Scotland Yard's Finest

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**_

_Hand on heart, Greg is my favourite character in BBC Sherlock. (Mycroft is a very close second.) It's to do with my love and appreciation for Rupert Graves, that sexy, underappreciated, talented actor. I will defend him to the grave, I won't lie. His performance in "The White Queen"? On point._

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_WARNING: Credit for the characters goes to ACD, MG and SM. I profit nothing off this. I'm just a fangirl messing around with them in an awful way._

_TRIGGERS: Mentions of Sherlock's "suicide" and his experimental days. It's hard not to mention it in this sort of a ff. My apologies._

_Also, swearing. Greg has a potty mouth. His mother must be ashamed._

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**3\. New Scotland Yard's Finest.**

When Greg Lestrade had first came across Sherlock Holmes, little did he know that he would be falling onto the biggest "problems" he would be facing in his life, never mind his career.

It even surpassed the mess of his cheating ex wife.

Yes, Sherlock Holmes was a prick, an absolute bastard, who was as high as a fucking kite when he stumbled across one of Greg's crime scenes. Greg had just been recently promoted to Detective Inspector and still was attempting to get the bearings of having his own team, when this fuckwit wandered onto his crime scene and started rambling at high speed everything that Greg's team had missed - including that it was OBVIOUS from the dead guy's shoelaces that he had been killed by a jealous lover.

As stunned as Lestrade was, and slightly impressed (he was admitting it to himself, just the once) at the ramblings, the new DI still arrested the junkie on the spot for disturbing a crime scene, and "being so bloody obvious off your bloody face, mate!"

Greg laughed when he heard the thin-stick, lanky addict say his name was "Sherlock Holmes" in booking. Sherlock - Sherlock! What a name!

But after just one night in the cells, this "Sherlock" was whisked away in a posh black car. And a similar black car was waiting for Greg in NSY's car park that evening when he had signed off duty for the night. Standing by that car was a pretty young lady of slight Italian descent, tapping away furiously on a Blackberry, and Greg had to listen to her request of "Get into the car, Detective Inspector Lestrade."

This was how he met the "interested party of Sherlock Holmes", ie the more oddly named Mycroft Holmes, the older brother of the crack addict. With his three piece suits, thin, posh tones, and his supposed minor position in the British Government. (Don't worry, Greg quickly found out that that was bollocks. Minor position officials couldn't control CCTV cameras and whip Greg's cases away from him in a blink of an eye.)

Looking back on it all, Greg marks this as his official association with the Holmes brothers commencing.

He struck up a deal with the elder Holmes: if Sherlock was able to stay clean, he could "assist" Greg on his cases, because it again was obvious that Sherlock had a...talent.

This was how Lestrade inherited the biggest problem of his life. No, it wasn't the Consulting Detective's relapses (there had been a few of those, a few nights of Sherlock sobering up on Greg's sofa, resulting in arguments between Greg and his wife), no, it was the trouble that followed the lanky bastard to the crime scenes.

Sally was the longest sergeant to last under Greg while he continued his association with Sherlock. Mainly because she came up with insulting names to vent her annoyance at Sherlock. Greg's previous sergeants couldn't cope with Sherlock's blatant rudeness, his cockiness...his general attitude to people. Sherlock had -to name a few things- made 3 sergeants request transfers; made Anderson's predecessor have a nervous breakdown after "informing" her that her fiancé was cheating on her with her sister, and still, the sociopath couldn't remember Greg's name.

Gregory Lestrade! It wasn't THAT hard, bloody hell! It was NORMAL compared to your stupid Sherlocks and Mycrofts!

And so it continued. And so Dr. John Watson appeared on scene.

Greg gained a friend with John. Someone to have a pint with after a shit day at NSY. Discuss Sherlock's latest mishap, as there was only so much he could go to Mycroft about.

But Sherlock gained...humanity.

The robot gained humanity from an Afghanistan doctor, who so much enjoyed the chase as much as Sherlock did.

Greg picked up on the whole "Not good?" game between Sherlock and John. Picked up on how John would just cut out the bullshit and tell Sherlock straight if he was acting like a dick - which was about 95% of the time.

When Sherlock committed suicide, Greg couldn't bring himself to face John. After all, it was him and his team who had ruined Sherlock, driven him to the brink of death and over. John was ruined by Sherlock's death, and Greg didn't want to face that. So he let John slip away and buried himself for two years in his work.

But the case success dipped slightly, the adrenaline rush vanished, the impossible hid.

This was all because Sherlock wasn't alive. Wasn't in his beloved London and pestering everyone, most especially Lestrade.

It only took Lestrade three months to admit to himself that he missed that lanky bastard.

Two years on, Anderson's theories were impossible and unbelievable. Yet the forensic scientist was absolutely spot on when Sherlock scared the shit out of Greg in the parking garage - and Greg clung onto the bastard longer than he'd like to admit to as he only wanted to make sure he wasn't going mad. But like John, he never asked the Holmes brothers how they had succeeded with the impossible and saved Sherlock. Greg didn't even ask when Moriarty ruined his football game; he didn't need to know, because all that mattered was that they had Sherlock on their side and not flying off towards his death.

Gregory Lestrade could never pinpoint the reasons why he put up with William Sherlock Scott Holmes. He supposed he never would be able to write a list of the reasons why he was drawn to the sociopath. However he accepted it. You can't explain the impossible. Sherlock was certainly the impossible in Greg's mind.

No doubt though, Greg wanted Sherlock around. He was drawn to him, after all.

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**_AUTHOR'S NOTE 2:_**

_ I would just like to clarify that I believe Greg would have rid himself of his ex wife and not attempted to sort things out with her. Let's face it, our silver fox is better when he's a bachelor (and maybe with Mycroft? I love me some Lestrade!)_


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